Revenge of the Pig
by AnnaMorrison
Summary: Cole Tritt escapes from prison and teams up with Aaron James to seek out revenge on CSI Greg Sanders. What evil plan does the infamous Cole Tritt have instore for our hero? Takes place after "Post Mortem".
1. Escape and Terror

_Author's Note: Hey guys, here's another my story. My special thanks belong to zmatuje and Drama-Duchess because they help me with my bad English:-) Without them, this story would probably never be here. Than, my next thanks are to LadySzmanda and my "boss", who are supporting me. Girls, you're the best all of you:-)_

Chapter One: Escape and Terror

It was night and all was quiet at the Las Vegas State Prison. A caucasian man in his early thirties with short brown hair and icy blue eyes sprinted carefully through the quad of the prison. His massively tattooed arms brushed fervently against his sides as he ran. If the prison guards were doing their jobs correctly, there would be no need for worry about escapees. But when it came to bribes, corruption, and bullying, this man's expertise was beyond comprehension. He excelled at it.

The arrogant-faced man threw a shirt over the mesh of barbed wire and hoisted himself over the fence. He ignored the pain coming from the cuts on his hands. Freedom was worth it. Time was of the essence and he made a dash for the final wall. Climbing over brick was easier to manage and less painful.

His friends were conveniently waiting for him in their getaway car on the other side of the wall. A skinny caucasian man sat patiently behind the wheel. Another dark-skinned man with short tight black curls and a round face sat in the backseat. After hours of laying low and waiting, they finally spotted their friend running towards the car. The convict took the passenger side seat and the dark-skinned man threw a knapsack at him. The knapsack contained a fresh change of clothes. As the car sped away, he gladly threw the prison clothes out the window. All that was left of Cole Tritt, was his dusty old jumpsuit lying at the side of the road. He was now a free man.

„Now what?" The driver asked.

„I need to change my appearance." Tritt informed him. „I can't walk around the city with a wanted face. By morning, my mug will be all over the news."

„We got you out, now do you remember your end of the bargain?" The dark-skinned man in the backseat protested.

„No worries Aaron, my man." Cole calmed him. „You'll have your vengeance. I get it. It's all about family. Your brother's revenge - I didn't forget. We have something in common." Cole laughed. „We're after the same friggin' man. Mark my words, that little prick will pay for locking me up _and_ for putting your brother six feet under."

* * *

Grissom sat in his office and with a worried face as he read Brass' police report. Cole Tritt's escape was one of things he would rather not know about. But on the other hand, it was better to know it sooner than later. Grissom had an unpleasant feeling that Tritt could come after Greg

Grissom put his reading glasses down and rubbed his temple. Then he looked at Jim Brass, who was sitting directly across from him. „Does the press know?"

„There's a manhunt out for him. But we've managed to keep it under wraps for now. The mayor will be forced to sign a press release," Brass' voice trailed off. „I told Sanders. He needed to know."

„Until Tritt is recaptured, Greg should be careful. We don't know what Tritt is capable of."

„He'll be stupid if he tries anything on Sanders." Brass growled. „He'll be sorry if he does. My first impressions are usually right."

„Cole Tritt is ruthless. He'll do anything for vengeance." Grissom replied. „Greg's still upset about yesterday's trial. Did you know Demetrius James' family intends to sue him?"

„What?!" Brass couldn't believe what he heard. „Hasn't the kid been through enough?"

„He keeps quiet and won't tell anyone anything. This whole trial has hit him hard. I don't think he's sure of himself anymore." Grissom remarked. „It makes him the perfect target."

„Better not tell him there's a bullseye on his back or he'll get a nervous breakdown...or something." Brass mumbled.

* * *

Greg parked his car in front of his house. He turned off the ignition and remained inside the car. His head was still full of yesterday's trial. Something in Aaron James' eyes scared him. The lament and complaints of Aaron's mother filled the young CSI's ears. He wanted to apologize to her. Say it was an accident or say it was in self-defense, but there were no words that could begin to describe what he did. There were no excuses.

He could never forget Demetrius James dissapearing under the front wheels of his car and the sound of the tires as he slammed on the breaks. It was like someone carved it into his memory with a scalpel. Then, the crackling of falling glass, someone's hands clutching his shoulders and dragging him out through the broken window. There was an endless storm of kicks and blows to every part of his body. A metal crow bar hit Greg in the head. Everything was blurry after that as the concussion and shock settled in. Amidst the kicking and beating, he must've bitten his tongue, because he felt his own blood filling his mouth. He was lying face down, choking on his blood. He woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth. Someone turned him over and continued kicking him in the stomach. He remembered the man with a pig's face, bent over and spat on his vest. In the last tremors of consciousness, Greg gathered up all his strength and buried his nails deep into the Pig man's calf. Then everything went black…

He remembered it all – the death of Demetrius James, the stay at the hospital, countless interrogations, the look on Catherine's face when he returned to the crime scene with the others, the gratefulness of Stanley Tanner - the tourist from Texas whom he saved, confessing everything to Grissom, and then the episode at the coroner's inquest yesterday.

Sofia Curtis was right when she said the trial was like a three-ring circus. The honorable Judge Clayton Trueblood made things quite unfair. He was like the ring leader yet acted like the beast at the same time. The verdict should have been not guilty due to self-defense. No one was satisfied with a bleak verdict like „excusable".

The thoughts ran through his mind again, like a thousand times before. Now that man is free again. He questioned whether or not Cole Tritt would come after him. Would that be the first order of business? His paranoia was getting the best of him.

Greg sighed, took the keys out of the ignition, and stepped out of the car. He slammed the door shut. Heavy in thoughts, he absentmindedly walked up to the front door of his house. Just as he was about to plug the key into the lock, he immediately jumped back. To his complete horror, he found a knife thrusted into the wood of his door.

Greg looked around nervously to see who might have done this. But there was no movement on the streets.

End of Chapter 1

_So, that's it:-) I hope you like it. Reviews are welcomed:-)_


	2. The Message

_A/N: Here's the second_ chap_ter. I still own nozhing and that makes me sad... If I owned the character, Sara, Warrick and Sophia would be still in the show. And like before, my specialthanks belongs to Zmatuje, Drama-Duchess, LadySzmanda and my dear boss._

Chapter 2: The Message

Greg took a few steps back and stared at the knife in awe. He'd seen this sort of thing happen in some horror movie, but never expected to actually witness it in real life. Greg stared at the blade protuding through the door. Wedged deeply into the wood and judging by the width of the sharp blade, Greg could tell the knife wasn't just any ordinary knife. It stood there and mocked him.

The young CSI hurried back towards his car. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind like wildfire. Horrified by what he had just seen, he placed his hands on the hood of the car to steady himself and took a deep breath. His whole body shook fiercely. Then he remembered Grissom. He needed to call Grissom. Grissom would know what to do.

His nervous hands fumbled in his pocket several times before he finally got a grip on his cell phone. He nearly dropped it as he took it out. He found Grissom's phone number and pressed the cell phone against his ear. The dial tone seemed to ring forever.

(Come on, Grissom. Pick up. Damn it. Pick up.) Greg thought impatiently as he waited for the third ring. Grissom's voice suddenly came on the other end. It was the longest three seconds of Greg's life.

„Grissom!" Greg exclaimed in distress.

„Greg, are you ok?" Grissom asked.

„No, I'm not okay. I need your help."

„What's wrong?"

„Can you come to my place?" Greg cried out in dispair.

„What's happened?" Grissom was starting to worry.

„Please, just come."

„Greg?"

„You will understand when you get here. Please come now. Please!" Greg pleaded.

„Uh, ok. I'll be there in ten minutes." Grissom said.

„Thanks." Greg snapped the phone shut. Not being able to stand up any farther, he slid down to a seated position next to the side of the car.

* * *

Grissom stared at the phone for a second as he held it in his hand. He had a very eerie feeling about this. Something was wrong. He sensed it in Greg's tone. This could not have been a simple case of paranoia. Greg would not call him like this if it wasn't something serious.

Through the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of someone's shadow passing his door. It was Nick. He walked pass Grissom's office, then stopped abruptly and walked back. Seeing Grissom's petrified stature, he stepped into the office.

„What's up?" Nick asked curiously.

„I just got a weird call from Greg." Grissom answered slowly. „He sounded tense."

„Of couse he would be," Nick shook his head. „He's got a lot on his plate right now. Especially with the lawsuit and the death of Demetrius James."

„You know, Cole Tritt escaped from the prison." Grissom interruped. It was the first thing on his mind.

„Brass mentioned it. I think everyone in the department knows. Cole Tritt. What bothers me is that I know what that monster is capable of doing." Nick said. „What did Greg say?"

„He wanted me to go over to his house right now. It sounded urgent."

„Something happened?"

„He won't say it over the phone." Grissom said. „I gotta go."

„I'm going with you." Nick said firmly.

* * *

Grissom and Nick found Greg sitting on the curb beside his car when they arrived. Greg appeared to be in some sort of shock - staring to nothing and trembling like a small leaf in the wind.

„Greg, are you alright? What happened?" Grissom asked as he knelt down to face Greg. Greg's eyes never tore away from the door of his house. They followed the direction of Greg's eyes and immediately understood why Greg was acting like this. Grissom and Nick exchanged troubled glances and turned their attention back to Greg.

The „message" was as clear as day. There were only two people capable of sending such a bone-chilling threat. Greg had no enemies in this world, except for Cole Tritt and Aaron James. These were the two people that had reason to loath Greg. They had enough vengeance to execute him. Little did Greg know, this was only the beginning.

Although the night air was brisk, it was not as cold as Greg made it seem. Even zipped up to the neck in his jacket, Greg still broke out into mean shakes. With teeth chattering, he crossed his arms and stuck his hands under the armpit of his jacket for warmth. The big scare made things worse.

„It's gonna be alright." Nick tried to comfort Greg. „You're cold. Here, take this." He proceeded to take his own jacket off and draped it over Greg's shoulders. Greg did not refuse.

„We're going to get to the bottom of this." Grissom said before getting up. He took his forensic kit from the trunk and made his way to the door. Nick followed with the camera.

Nick got the house keys from Greg and proceeded to take a few photographs of the knife protruding from the door – both from the front and behind the door. Grissom slapped on a pair of latex gloves and examined the knife itself.

Greg watched from a distance as Grissom dusted the handle of the knife with dactyloscopic powder for prints. They managed to pull a whole palm print. It wasn't much but it was a start.

Grissom and Nick finished up their task of bagging and tagging, they walked back to where Greg stood.

„I want to go with you." Greg finally spoke. „It's my home but I don't feel safe here. Not tonight."

„It's alright." Grissom said. „We'll find out who did this."

„You can bunk at my place if you want." Nick offered.

Greg just nodded.

Te threesome climbed into Grissom's car and drove off to the crime lab.

* * *

Jim entered Grissom's office. The night shift supervisor glanced up at him from behind of his desk.

„Nick told me what happened at Sanders' place." Brass began, wasting no time and getting straight to the point. „Do you have any info you'd want to share with me?"

„Someone stuck a knife on the front door to Greg's house. He saw it when he came home and called me." Grissom explained without taking his eyes off the paper he was reading. „We managed to get prints off the knife. We brought the knife back to trace."

„Do you have anything yet?" Brass asked a little softer.

„The lab is running the prints through AFIS as we speak." Grissom said. „Did you find out what method Cole Tritt use to escape?"

„You know, nobody saw anything. No one heard anything." Jim growled. „We recovered the survellience from the prison cameras. Archie's going through them now. From what we do know, Tritt had accomplices. We may also be dealing with a couple of crooked prison guards in the mix."

„This was well planned, Jim. There was a getaway car waiting for him on the other side." Grissom said. „We don't know how many more people he has on the outside. I'll send Warrick and Sara to check on the accounts of all prison guards."

„Hope it'll be productive." Brass muttered. „It's bad enough I have to deal with a murderer on the loose. If he had help, I wanna know. I'll make sure they get the same cell with a lovely view of nothing but brick walls."

„You need to check out Tritt's house. It might be the first stop. We also need to canvas his parent's home too. Maybe they know where he is. Take Catherine with you."

„If they're anything like Tritt himself, I doubt they'll rat him out." Jim said in a discouraged tone.

„It's worth a shot." Grissom said.

„A long shot, but okay." Jim agreed. „Catherine's been in a really bad mood."

„I'm aware of that. When I told her Cole Tritt escaped, she was very upset." Grissom recalled. „We all are."

„Hey, I know to stay away when Catherine gets into one of her angry streaks. She wouldn't let Tritt harm a single hair on Greg's head."

„Excuse me…" Someone called from the doorway. Both men looked up to meet the thick brown bobbing hair of Mandy Webster, the fingerprint analysis technichian.

„Yes, Mandy?" Grissom nodded.

„Sorry to interrupt." Mandy stammered while alternating glances between Grissom and Brass.

„It's quite alright. What is it?" Grissom said.

Mandy entered the room holding a piece of paper. „I've got the results on the prints you found on the knife."

„And?" Grissom and Brass asked at the same time.

„I ran the handprint through AFIS and we have a direct match." Mandy said with eyes gleaming. „It's confirmed. It belongs to Cole Tritt."

Brass turned to Grissom and said, „I wonder what Catherine's gonna say now."

_End of Chapter 2_


	3. Where to Hide

_Author's Note: Hi everyone! Another chapter of my story is here. I know it's not very long and I update very very slowly but my life is quite difficult nowadays. My biggest thanks belongs to Zmatuje and Drama-Duchess, my kindred spirits and reviewers. This story would've never been here without them._

Chapter 3: Where to Hide  
"That bastard! What a bunch of bullshit!" Catherine yelled into her phone.

Jim shifted his hold on the cell phone. "Cath.."

"When you catch that son-of-a-bitch, give me fifteen minutes alone with him, Brass. That's all I ask – fifteen minutes." Catherine interjected. She growled in anguish.

"Calm down, Catherine." Brass tried to soothe her. "You know, I'm not exactly thrilled about what happened either."

"Don't tell me to calm down. I will calm down when you have that bastard in custody. I swear, if he lays one finger on Greg, I'll break his ass. And I mean it!" Catherine hung up in the heat of the moment.

"Kingdom for ear plugs." Brass grumbled and went out to get a breath of fresh air.

* * *

Grissom headed straight for the lounge. Sara and Warrick were already there trying to get Greg to talk. Nick was absent from the group. He was busy at the trace lab processing the knife.

Grissom entered the room without hesitation. "Warrick, Sara, I want you to check the list of wardens in the state prison. I want to know their whereabouts, their alibis, their accounts, everything."

"But that's plenty of names." Warrick objected.

"That's why you have Sara to help. Two heads are better than one." Grissom replied authoritatively. Sara and Warrick got up and left the room upon receiving their orders. Grissom turned to Greg. "We need to talk."

Greg followed Grissom out the room submissively. As Grissom walked down the hallway, he debated on how he should break the news to Greg. The fingerprint analysis came back and they had a hit on AFIS.

They turned the end of the corridor. Grissom turned to face Greg. Greg wondered what was going on.

"Mandy ran the prints…" Grissom stopped in mid-sentence. "It belongs to Cole Tritt." He blurted.

Petrified, Greg looked like he was about to faint. He darted his eyes around like as if some wearing a pig mask was going to jump out from behind and yell "Boo!"

"Looks like you won't be going home for a while." Grissom continued.

"I don't have anywhere else to go." Greg stammered with voice full of horror.

"You do have a choice. I'm sure the whole team has offered to take you in. You can go with one of them or you can stay here." Grissom offered. "It may be too risky to put you in a hotel."

"I... I..." Greg stuttered and was still blinking and staring somewhere behind Grissom's shoulder. "I think I'll stay here." He said after thinking awhile.

"Ok then." Grissom agreed. "We can put a cot in the lounge. I'll make sure you won't be disturbed."

"It's not necessary." Greg shook his head and tried to make a joke. "I can sleep on the roof."

"What? No, Greg. You can't sleep on the roof." Grissom declined. "Three options – the lounge, Brass' office or mine. It's your decision."

Greg didn't know which of the three choices would be more painful. After a moment of pondering, he spoke softly. "You know, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think I'd be able to sleep in the same room as your fetal pig preserving in a jar of formaldehyde. Then there's that funny statue in Brass's office - seems like wherever you go, the eyes follow you. At lease I can put a cover over it."

"Fine then." Grissom said. "I'll have Nick drop by your place and get your things."

"Thanks." Greg whispered gratefully. He turned his back on Grissom and walked away.

"Oh, and by the way, I don't want you near this case. Is that understood?" Grissom said.

Greg nodded obediently.

"Greg?" Grissom called after him as he started to walk away again. Greg turned around. "We're going to help you with this. I promise." Grissom said. Greg forced a smile and sadly walked away.

* * *

Nick cautiously drove down Greg's street. There was no movement but he still was careful. He pulled up on the side of the road. He parked several feet away from Greg's house, just in case. He surveyed the area and got out of the car. As he walked to the house, he passed by Greg's car. Nick noticed that the car stood lower than usual. A few moments later, he found out why. All four tires on Greg's car were slashed.

"Bastard!" Nick muttered under his breath angrily. "When I'm through with you, you ain't going to see the light of day."

Nick walked to the door and shook his head at the crack the knife made before inserting the key into the lock. He entered the house and a few minutes later he came out with a backpack filled with things he thought Greg might need in the next days. There was nothing unusual outside the house. But he got this eerie feeling that things were far from over.

* * *

"Catherine, please calm down." Brass begged for the hundredth time as he got out of the car.

"Tell me that one more time and I promise I'll stop controlling myself." Catherine growled with clenched teeth. She slammed the passenger door shut.

"Let me remind you that we're here to question, not to be violent. The last thing we need is you killing someone from Tritt's family before they get to answer my questions." Jim defended himself half in jest.

"Trust me, I can hold my anger." Catherine said in a not so believable tone. They reached the doorstep to the Tritt residence.

Brass knocked on the door. A woman in her 60's threw open the door. She had way too much make-up on her face. There were five earrings in each of her ears. Bleached streaks of blond hair hugged her wrinkled face.

"Ah, now I know where Cole gets his good looks from." Brass whispered humorously just loud enough for Catherine to hear. "Are you Mrs. Tritt?" Brass straightened up.

"That depends. Who wants to know?" The woman said in a raspy voice.

"I'm Captain Jim Brass of the LVPD and this is Catherine Willows of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We need to ask you a few questions." Brass said.

"If you came lookin' for my boy, you're wastin' your time. He ain't here." The woman thundered. Her funny penciled-in eyebrows arched.

"You didn't even ask what this was about. You automatically assumed he was in trouble. You know where he is. WHERE IS HE?" Catherine demanded.

Mrs. Tritt tried to slam the door on her unwanted guests but Brass caught the door with an arm. "Look, if you're covering him, you're in a big trouble." Catherine added.

"I don't know where he is." The woman shrieked in frustration with hands on hips. Her colorful face resembled that of a vulture. "I haven't heard from him since that crack-brain judge put him in jail because he spit on some jack-a-dandy, who scratched him! Leave me alone and go to hell!" Her two-hundred-decibel scream ended with spitting a wad of saliva at her guests' feet and a slamming of the door in their faces.

"Gee, that was real attractive." Brass said blankly. "And now we know how who Cole inherited his elegant breeding from."

"Come on, it's not worth it." Brass said when he saw the anger seething in Catherine's eyes. "Let's get outta here." He said while tugging his colleague's elbow away before she could decide to break the closest window.

* * *

Nick left his car in the garage and walked into the building with a backpack over his shoulder. He passed by the lab and saw Sara and Warrick going through the wardens' bank accounts.

"Did you find anything?" Nick asked and put the backpack down.

"Not yet." Warrick frowned. "I think he didn't use a wire transfer. It's gotta be cash. There's no record here of any money transfers."

"Or the wardens were somehow intimidated by him." Sara suggested.

"Or they were not involved at all. Perhaps it was set up to make it look like the wardens had something to do with it." Nick replied.

"It could be anything." Warrick grimaced.

"Somebody had to switch the alarm system off to release Tritt from his cell. And someone had to give it just enough time for Tritt to get around the yard and over the wall and into the getaway car. The whole process was well-planned. There must be an inside-man." Sara said.

* * *

Greg slowly entered the lounge and sat on the sofa. After a while, he stood up again and walked to the window. He watched the street idly and thought about when he would be allowed to go home. The crime lab was his home for now. He felt trapped not being able to set a single step outside. He wondered how much longer he can bear surrendering his liberty.

Something caught his attention as he gazed into the street. In the darkness, he saw two shady figures – the first, a dark-skinned fellow and the second, a lanky Caucasian male. Greg snuck back and hid away from view. He stared at them silently, watching both men until they disappeared behind the corner of a building. Although he couldn't prove it, he was quite certain who the two men were.

Greg watched the empty streets for a while before removing himself from the window. Suddenly, the lounge didn't feel safe anymore. He found himself walking down the halls. With no where else to go, he slipped into his new hiding place - Captain Jim Brass' office.

_End of Chapter 3_

_Author's Note: Hope you like it. I welcome any review you would write!  
_


	4. Protective Custody or a Gilded Cage?

_Author's Note: Hi, I'm back! I'm sorry it took me so long to update but i'm quite busy now. Hope you'll like it._

Chapter 4: Protective Custody or a Gilded Cage?

"Hey Jim, how'd it go at Tritt's place?" Grissom spoke into his cell-phone.

_"Oh, just perfect."_ Brass replied ironically_. "I had to hold Catherine back from tearing Mrs. Tritt's head off."_ He spoke through a wireless headset attached to his ear while he drove.

_"Why do you always have to blab everything out?"_ Catherine fumed at Brass. Grissom was able to hear her annoyed voice in the background.

Grissom just shook his head. "Do we know where Cole is hiding?" He finally asked.

_"Mrs. Tritt, the kind-hearted God-fearing woman, claims she has no idea of her son's whereabouts."_ Brass said sarcastically. _"I wouldn't bet on her giving up his location even if you put a gun to her head. But I could arrest her for assaulting a police officer. She gave us her DNA in the same manner her piglet son did to Sanders in the alley."_

"Somehow, I'm not very surprised." Grissom said somberly. "Oh, while we're on the subject of Greg...You should know that he volunteered your office as a place of refuge. He needed a place to sleep."

_"Oh, I'm such an amiable person."_ Brass grumbled bitterly, when in fact, he didn't mind at all._ "Well, to be honest, I kinda expected it. He would get no peace staying in the lounge with the day shift constantly roaming around. It would surely drive him mad. And he's not silly enough to stay in your office. So naturally, my office is the only plausible choice. The only other place is Ecklie's office and no one would want to go there."_

Grissom had a surprised look on his face. It sounded almost like as if Brass was glad Greg picked his office. "I'm just letting you know in case you walk into your office later and see that Greg has moved in. Nick brought over a few things from Greg's house."

_"Thanks for the heads up."_ Brass said.

"And by the way, it looks like Cole Tritt or one of his thugs went back to Greg's house. Nick said all four tires on Greg's car have been slashed." Grissom said.

_"It's time to return the pig back to his sty."_ Brass mumbled feeling disgusted.

They got off the phone shortly thereafter.

Grissom put his cell phone back into his pocket and arrived at the Audio/Video lab. He was anxious to help his colleagues put Cole Tritt back into prison, where he belonged.

Just as Grissom was about to enter the lab, he caught Sara coming out the door. "Did you find anything?" He asked her impatiently.

"There's nothing abnormal in the bank accounts. Nothing at all that'll give any solid leads." She shook her head.

"Grissom." A male voice suddenly called from the other end of the corridor.

Grissom and Sara turned around and saw Conrad Ecklie leaning out of the office door. "I need to have word with you. Now, please." He ordered authoritatively and ducked back into his office.

"What the hell does he want?" Sara muttered rhetorically under her breath. She hated Ecklie.

"I'll find out soon enough." Grissom said. "Tell Nick and Warrick to go to the prison and get as much info as possible. Have Archie go through the warden's call list with you."

"Okay." Sara agreed and went to fill his orders. Grissom made his way to Ecklie's office.

* * *

Brass and Catherine made it back to the lab after a rather unproductive attempt to extract information from Mrs. Tritt. They both headed towards Captain Brass' office to retrieve some files that Brass needed. Brass turned the door knob to his office and entered into the semi-darkness. The Venetian blinds shielded the sunlight from coming into the room. Brass was about to flick on the lights when Catherine gave him a nudge on the shoulder. She pointed to a figure lying on the couch adjacent to the windows.

With both his hands tucked under his head, Greg was fast asleep. Catherine smiled, satisfied that Greg finally got some sleep after a long and stressful day.

Brass found an old blanket that he kept in his office and covered the young CSI with it. "Looks like he could use a nap." Brass said while pulling the blanket over Greg's shoulders. He turned to Catherine and said, "If you don't mind, I would... I guess I'll just grab my files, make a few phone calls and see how the investigation's going."

"Alright." Catherine said. "I'll be here for a bit." Brass left the room.

Catherine took a seat in a chair across from Greg and watched him sleep.

* * *

"We're finally getting close." Archie Johnson mumbled contently as he worked on the video tape from the security camera in the prison.

The picture showed a figure of a man climbing over a chain-linked fence. The man then scaled over the brick wall and disappeared. Archie stopped the tape, went back a few frames per second and froze the screen. Then he zoomed into the picture for details.

"I know that arm!" Sara exclaimed. Apparently, the man's sleeve had slipped down as he reached for the top of the fence revealing a massively tattoo on his arm.

"Are you sure?" Archie asked. "Do you want me to zoom in a bit more? Maybe clear up the image a little?"

"That's nice of you but not necessary. I'm a hundred percent sure I know whose arm that belongs to." Sara said firmly. "It's definitely Cole Tritt."

"Okay, I believe you." Archie said. "Well, now we know his way out."

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Grissom asked reluctantly when he entered Ecklie's office.

"Yes, yes." Ecklie said from his seat behind the desk. "I want to talk about Sanders."

"What about him?" Grissom asked.

"I want to put him into protective custody." Ecklie announced. He had the same evil power-stricken smirk on his face that drove everyone in the lab mad. "It's for his own safety, of course."

"Protection – yes. But _protective_ _custody_?!" Grissom repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Do you mean it seriously?"

"I'm dead serious." Ecklie confirmed. "We can't risk Sanders' life, especially when he's on duty. He's already been labeled as the-guy-who-killed-a-college-kid and that puts the lab's reputation in a _very_ unpleasant position."

"His case was found excusable." Grissom corrected. "Even though we all know it was self-defense."

"Excusable, self-defense, it doesn't matter. The point is - a boy died and that bad press rubbed off on the department." Ecklie waved off. "And with Cole Tritt's prison break, the best way to proceed would be to keep Sanders under twenty-four hour surveillance."

"He's already under twenty-four hour surveillance here." Grissom protested.

"No one can guarantee he won't just get up and disappear right from under our nose." Ecklie explained. "There are more security guards….as well as bars in the custody. That will make sure no one can touch him."

"He could easily squeeze through the bars if he wanted." Grissom snapped back forgetting how silly that sounded in front of his boss. "For God's sake, you can't lock him up in prison! He'll be among the people he put there himself."

"There aren't that many people he put away. And besides, I don't see any reason why he couldn't go there for his own safety."

"Don't you get it, Ecklie? He's from 'the other side' of the law. He's one of the good guys. You can't put him in a cage like some sort of wild animal. He's not a criminal." Grissom raised his voice.

"I wasn't talking about detention." Ecklie objected coldly.

"Where else would you want to put him?" Grissom asked with venom seeping in his voice.

"I said protective custody, not the detention center. There is a difference, you know." Ecklie replied. He didn't understand why Grissom couldn't see the difference between detention and protective custody.

"It pretty much means the same thing – you're gonna lock him up. In that case, you'll have to build another prison because until then, we only have one."

"I'm doing this in the interest of the lab and for Sander's own good. That's my final word!" Ecklie demanded and stood up.

"Don't you dare!" Grissom shouted back. He started to lose his cool. With fisted hands and eyes wide with anger, his voice raised louder than normal. "The kid's barely holding on right now. Can you imagine what would happen if you send him into protective custody or whatever fancy name you want to call it? Do you know what that will do to his nerves?! You're going to put him in the hospital and I won't take any part of it. I will NOT allow you to do that to him. If you send him into 'protective custody', you will have to send _me_ there, too!"

Ecklie's face turned red with both anger and embarrassment. Grissom was under him in the corporate ladder and he had absolutely no right to treat him in this disrespectable manner. Before he could say anything more, the door swung open. Catherine and Sara entered the room. They both had curious, yet angry expressions on their faces.

"What's going on here?" Sara asked. "What's with all the yelling?"

Catherine, on the other hand, wasn't as curt. "Half the people in Vegas are able to hear you. Poor Greg is sleeping now and if you wake him up, then..."

"Ecklie wants to put Greg in protective custody." Grissom announced. He was trying to hold his voice steady. "And I said no."

"You can't do that." Sara turned to Ecklie.

"Oh yes, I can." Ecklie said and waved a paper in his hand. "I'm above you, remember? I can do anything. It's called authority."

"What are people gonna think if you put him there?! It's gonna look bad on him." Catherine said with voice full of rage. She approached Ecklie. "I swear I will create a scandal like you've never seen. I have connections in high places. Every single network and newspaper is going to find out how you sent an absolutely innocent man to rot in jail. They will like Greg's sad eyes. You can trust me on that." She threatened.

Ecklie panted loudly like a bull ready to charge into the arena and shred the toreador. "Catherine...you're prejudiced."

"Of course I'm prejudiced." Catherine shouted back. "I won't let anybody put Greg in so much stress. He's scared enough already. Custody would kill him!"

"Fine, then have it your way." Ecklie yelled and pounded his fist to the desk. "If something happens to him, don't come crying to me. Remember, I tried to offer my help but you turned it away."

Sara wanted to say something foul but reminded herself that Ecklie was still the under sheriff and whatever she said could be used against her. Grissom caught her by the elbow and tugged her away.

"This meeting is over." Grissom said to Ecklie. "Catherine, Sara, we've got more important things to do. We're leaving." He added as he left the room. Catherine and Sara followed him.

Just before Ecklie's door closed, he heard Sara muttered angrily, "Protective custody. Ha! Over my dead body."

End of Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I know it's not too long and so... but I'm trying to do my best. Massive thanks to Zmatuje and Drama-Duchess for their help. Please, sign a review if you have a chance;-)_


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